


Versailles, 1789

by girodelles_waifu



Category: 1789 - バスティーユの恋人たち | 1789: Les Amants de la Bastille - Takarazuka Revue, Datenshi no Namida | Lucifer's Tears - Takarazuka Revue
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-28 00:52:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15037079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girodelles_waifu/pseuds/girodelles_waifu
Summary: An otherworldly guest appears at the royal court on the brink of its downfall.





	Versailles, 1789

No one in Versailles could say where the dancer was from; there were vague whispers of Persia, Venice, or Transylvania, but these were nothing more than imaginative conjecture. All were agreed, however, that he was surely the most beautiful creature on earth (although, if the Comte d'Artois happened to be within earshot, this was rapidly amended to 'one of the most').

Lazare could do little to assess the dancing, but he had to agree on the matter of beauty. Michel d'Enfer had entranced the entire court practically from the moment he walked in, with his soft waves of blond hair, impossibly translucent complexion, and bewitchingly graceful gestures. Even the Comte d'Artois was less put out at being temporarily supplanted as the most attractive person in the room than Lazare had expected.

Still, there was something not right about the dancer. Perhaps it was the intensity of his fixed pale stare, or the smile that seemed more diligently practiced than instinctual. In any case, Lazare decided that personally, he would be more comfortable when Michel d'Enfer fell from this ephemeral moment of glory and was tossed back to whatever hedonistic theatre he had originated from.

Soon Lazare had had rather enough of watching the dancer fondling a golden apple, and slipped back through the audience to search for more wine. Even the waiters and maids had been too distracted by the performance to refill their trays of glasses, and he ended up having to return to the banquet hall. As the heady music and perfume from the ballroom faded, it was as if a fog lifted: Lazare wondered if d'Enfer had some knowledge of aprodisiacs as well as...certain others at court. It would explain his instantaneous domination of this month's series of balls.

The flowers that had decorated the banquet tables were wilting now, the trays of cut fruit browning. A tableu of memento morii. Lazare had never been one for the supernatural, but being in the silent, deserted hall made him remember tales of those who had wandered into the underworld, or Fairyland. After tasting food not made by mortal hands, they could never return. However, now that he had finally found a bottle of wine, Lazare wasn't about to let children's fables put him off: he sipped it cautiously because of the late hour, that was all.

Lazare realized the faint music from the ballroom had stopped only moments before he heard the footsteps behind him. Whirling around, he found himself looking down to meet Michel d'Enfer's unblinking slate-blue eyes.

"You weren't watching." The statement was not accusatory, rather curious. "Why not?"

Slightly unnerved that a mere dancer (even a graceful, lightfooted one) had been able to sneak up on one of the king's elite military men, Lazare found himself saying things he hadn't even realized he thought. "You look like you're only playacting at humanity. You look like you'd rather see everyone in the room dead at your feet than dance for them. It made me sick."

To say such things to a favourite of the royal family was sure to result in censure but d'Enfer somehow did not seem insulted. "Indeed...I shall have to practice," he said softly.

The banquet hall was beginning to come back to life now, servants rapidly working to refresh the table settings before the party in the ballroom started to drift back in. Since he was standing next to the most popular attraction at court, Lazare prepared to be crushed by a mob of fawning ladies (and not a few gentlemen) but despite the bustle all around them, none of the courtiers seemed to notice the noble officer or the common-born dancer.

Lazare had never intended to associate with the dancer at all, but neither was he keen on diving into the frivolous, insipid conversation circles all around them. He didn't expect much when he changed the conversation topic, but the dancer was surprisingly knowledgeable and intelligent for a commoner, and also remarkably interested in French military campaigns, a subject which Lazare rarely had a chance to display his knowledge of.

With the distraction of Michel d'Enfer temporarily gone from the picture, the Comte d'Artois was the center of attention again, and clearly relishing the favour. Lazare paused in his explanation of the Second Crusade when he noticed the dancer staring in the Comte's direction. "What?"

D'Enfer smiled slightly, not the garish mask he had used during the performance, but a real, albeit sardonic, expression as if in response to some private jest. "Your prince fancies himself a god, I see."

Lazare blinked at this boldness, after being shown such generosity in being able to perform before the royal family. "You...would be wise not to say that aloud."

"Is that so." Across the rome, the Comte d'Artois laughed, and d'Enfer's smile broadened. "Honestly, I can see why. He's cruel, whimsical, thoughtless, possessive..." his tone had been rising through the entire list, and ended in a snarling laugh. "He's perfect!"

Glancing around quickly to see if anyone had heard, Lazare grabbed d'Enfer by the arm, pulling him behind a pillar. He had wanted to see the dancer gone, true, but not with the wrath of the Comte d'Artois following him, not after the surprisingly pleasant conversation they had just had. "Have a care what you say! That is the brother of the King of France you're talking about. If he were to--"

"So I should fear being cast out of the presence of the High and Mighty One?" Again the private smile: Lazare wondered what joke he was being left out of. "I appreciate the concern, Monsieur le Comte de Peyrol." Lazare was certain he had never told the dancer his name. "But you too should have a care what gods you worship...have you ever seen the idols of Greece and Rome?"

Lazare knew he shouldn't let the dancer take control of the conversation again, for his own good, but the abrupt change of topic made him curious. "No..."

"They are all lost or broken now, by spite, by war, by simple neglect. Gods made by human hands never survive...So have a care what gods you worship: for when humans tire of their gods, they destroy them."

Before Lazare could compose an answer to this lèse-majesté, Michel d'Enfer slipped around the pillar and through the crowd. Lazare was briefly conflicted as to whether to follow him, but before he could decide either way he was cornered by a few ladies who were dying to know where he had been all evening, and had he ever met their daughters? Escaping this situation without accidentally entangling himself into matrimony required all of Lazare's focus, and by the time he managed to get away Michel d'Enfer was nowhere to be seen.

Lazare decided to try speaking to the dancer again after his next performance (perhaps this time he might even watch), but he did not appear at the next ball, or the next. When he inquired of some of the other courtiers what had become of Michel d'Enfer, he only recieved blank stares in reply. Even Ramard, who, while ridiculous, did usually tend to notice things around the palace, said he'd never heard the name.

The whole incident had been so odd that after a few months, Lazare had forgotten much of it and was fairly convinced he had imagined the whole thing, overcome by perfumed air and too much wine.

When he saw the flames rising above the Bastille, he remembered.

**Author's Note:**

> In the script of Datenshi, Lucifer does reference a previous visit to earth during the French Revolution. I keep meaning to make a sequel to this involving the revolutionary crew...  
> If you've seen this fic somewhere else, it is because a friend posted it for me before I had an ao3 account.


End file.
